


Caught Up

by Absolutely_Corrupted



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Angst (eventually), Canon-Typical Violence, Demisexuality, Emotional Intimacy, Empathy, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Interrogation, Kidnapping, Mental Health Issues, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:31:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absolutely_Corrupted/pseuds/Absolutely_Corrupted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leandra Elwyn, known as Lee by most, has lived the first twenty years of her life in relative normalcy. That all changes when she meets Bruce Wayne, the newly returned "prince" of Gotham. While those around them are preoccupied by their supposed whirlwind romance, Lee and Bruce find themselves caught up in something much less innocent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Date With a Prince (Part I)

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

"Lee? You up yet?"

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

"Lee?"

_BANG!_

"Lee!"

I jerked upright and twisted towards my bedroom door. "I'm up!" The declaration was punctuated by a loud thump as I fell to the floor, tangled in folds of pale blue comforter.

"Come on, Lee, you're the one who told me to wake you up at seven." Jessie's sigh was audible through the door. "Now hurry up and start getting ready so I can go back to bed."

"I'm good." Jessie snorted. "No, really," I insisted. "I won't go back to sleep - your job is done."

I heard a muffled, "Thank god," followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. For a long moment after that I stayed motionless, sprawled on the ground in an ungraceful heap. It was only when my eyes started to droop that I forced myself to rise.

Still half-asleep, I shuffled out of my room and into the bathroom I shared with Jessie and Maria. I turned the shower on and stripped down to nothing while waiting for the water to heat. Luckily for me, the shower was billowing steam in no time at all.

Twenty minutes later I was squeaky clean and wide awake. I wrapped one towel around my body and used a second to wipe away the steam in the mirror. I grimaced when I caught sight of the purple shadows lingering under my eyes, made all the more visible by my unusually pale face. Clearly, staying up to write that essay hadn't done my looks any favors. Resignedly, I dabbed concealer over my dark cirles before using mascara and a tinted lip balm. I then pinched my cheeks in an attempt to bring more color to my face. The overall end result wasn't bad, so I congratulated myself on a job well-done and went back to my room to get dressed.

Once I was bundled up well enough for the chilly weather, and after checking at least three times to make sure my paper was in my bag, I picked up my keys and strode out the door.

The rest of the morning passed pretty quickly. I turned in my essay an hour before it was due and made it through both of my Thursday classes without falling asleep, largely thanks to the coffee one of my classmates had all but shoved into my hands after the fourth time I'd nearly fallen out of my chair in our Chem lab.

The weather was pleasant and Wayne Enterprises wasn't far from campus so I walked to work, sipping from Alicia's thermos as I dodged harried pedestrians.  _'I'll have to return this next time I see her,'_  I thought idly.  _'Maybe I'll invite her to lunch on Saturday? She'd probably hit it off with Maria...'_

"Leandra, how are you?" George grinned at me as I entered the building. He covered the afternoon shifts at the front desk and was always painstakingly polite to anyone and everyone who came through the doors. A sharp contrast to Evelyn, who, while gorgeous, was only grudgingly polite.

"I'm great, thanks," I said. "How's your day been?"

"Oh it's been wonderful! Why, just this morning-" A shrill ring cut him off. "I'm sorry," he said with genuine regret. "But I need to take this phone-call." I glanced at Evelyn who was busy with her own phone. She may have been less than personable, but the girl had an astonishing work ethic.

"It's alright, George," I rubbed the back of my neck, "I need to get to work as well. Good luck with the rest of your shift." He nodded his thanks even as he picked up his phone and launched into his well-rehearsed spiel:  _"You've reached Wayne Enterprises, this is George, how may I help you?"_ I spared a moment for a jaunty wave goodbye, then headed towards the elevators, pulling my key card out as I did so. I swiped the plastic card and waited for the doors to open. When they did, I stepped in, followed by a grouchy older man carrying a large stack of files.

"Fifth floor." I obligingly pressed the corresponding button. "Thanks," he said. The deep frown he'd worn on his face since entering didn't move an inch and I got the feeling he was saying it more out of obligation than out of any real sense of gratitude. In fact, he was radiating aggravation and misery - definitely not pleasant things to feel, even vicariously.

"It's no problem," I assured him anyway, avoiding eye contact. We spent the rest of our shared time in the elevator in awkward silence. I was actually quite relieved when he got out and a younger, friendlier looking man stepped in. He had dark hair that was neatly styled back and classically handsome features.

I was just about to greet him when a sudden and powerful chill went through my body, starting in my toes and traveling all the way to the top of my head. In its wake I was left with the feeling that I'd just narrowly avoided being electrocuted. It was a familiar sensation, but one I didn't often feel as intensly as I just had. Grateful that the man's back was currently to me, I quickly stopped swaying on my feet and closed my gaping mouth before he turned to face the elevator doors.

Breathing a little shallowly, I gestured to the panel, "Which floor do you need?"

"Ninth, but it looks like you're getting off there too," he said with a friendly grin.

Skin tingling, I jerked my head up and down in what hopefully resembled a nod.  _'Come on Lee, pull yourself together,'_ I told myself. "Looks like it," I agreed. "If you don't mind me asking, what business do you have on the ninth floor? I've never seen you there before..."

"Just picking up some things for Mr. Fox," he said. "You wouldn't happen to know where to find someone who can show me around?"

Though the my nerve endings were still buzzing, I was able to push aside the feeling and regain most of my equilibrium. "I can do you one better," I told him. "My paychecks may say 'intern' but I'm actually the entire level's unofficial gofer. If you don't mind waiting for me to put my things at my desk," I gestured to my backpack and coffee. "I can get you wherever you need to go."

"Sounds like a plan Miss Gofer." The man's amusement all but shone out of his eyes.

I widened my own in horror. "Please don't say that in front of anyone else," I begged, "Or I'll never hear the end of it."

He gave a low laugh and held up three fingers. "I won't - scout's honor." Just then the doors opened, revealing a long hallway with desks along either side. My own desk was the third one down on the right, already covered with files, notepads, and sticky notes.

"Right this way," I said, gesturing for the dark-haired man to follow me. After we reached my untidy work station I quickly put my plain black backpack under my desk and opened a drawer to grab a clipboard before shuffling all the miscellaneous papers into a neat stack. "Alright, I'm ready to go. Who do you need to see first?"

"Uh," he paused and reached into his jacket to pull out a small piece of paper. "Michael Frost, he's-"

"The guy in charge of keeping track of the money," I supplied with a conspiratory smile. He had an official title, but I got the sense my companion would appreciate my familiar attitude. The man was practically  _bleeding_  loneliness all over the place. I usually tried to block out whatever I picked up from the people around me, but strangers were always harder to ignore; not to mention this guy's thoughts, emotions, hell, his  _everything_  was stronger, more intense, than practically anyone else I'd ever met. Which, come to think of it, probably explained my unusually severe reaction in the elevator. Shaking my head, I turned in the direction of Mr. Frost's office. "If you'll just follow me?"

He smiled charmingly. "Sure."

I started walking, dodging the employees racing back and forth. I looked back at my companion only to wince in sympathy as a woman in heels trod over his shiny, black dress shoes. "Sorry," I said. "It's always a little chaotic around lunch time. We have people coming and going along with those who've stayed in order to finish something they're behind on. Pretty much everyone is in some sort of rush."

"I can handle a sore toe or two." I nodded, but noted with a wry smirk that he stayed close on my heels the rest of the way to Mr. Frost's office.

When we reached our destination, I knocked twice on the door frame before stepping into the room. "Mr. Frost?" I called. "I have someone here to pick up files for Mr. Fox..." I trailed off, seeing that Frost was on the phone. He held up a hand, gesturing for me to wait. He wedged the phone between his head and his right shoulder and started shuffling through the papers on his desk. I awkwardly stood there, just inside his office, and tried not to shift in place too noticeably.

"Aha!" Came the quiet exclamation. Frost held up a manila envelope and made 'come here' motions with his free hand. I quickly strode forward and took the envelope with a mouthed 'thanks.' He waved me off and spun in his chair so that he was facing the window behind his desk. "...earliest I can get it to you is next Monday." A pause. "I can try, but no promises," he laughed. "That's right."

I exited the office and smiled at the man waiting for me. "Here you are!" I passed him the envelope. "According to the sticky note on top, this has the files you need as well as a flash drive Mr. Fox has been waiting for."

"Thanks," he checked the piece of paper from earlier. "Now I just need to see Justin Worthington about some schematics and find someone who can get me information about a couple of shipments."

I started walking, knowing my companion would follow. "That'll be easy. Justin leaves everything meant for pick-up in his outbox and I just so happen to have the passwords to the records you need." I felt a wave of confusion drift over me and hastened to explain, "You see, someone came by yesterday asking about a late shipment and I was put in charge of printing out the records for him."

"Is that so? Well, I'm glad I ran into you then."

"You should be," I winked to let him know I was joking. "Okay," I gestured to the box of files on the table we'd stopped in front of. "All you have to do is search by the last name of whoever it's going to and sign off on what you're taking on the clipboard to your left."

He did as I asked and straightened.

"Great," I said. "Do you need anything else before we head back to my desk for the shipping records?"

He had a sly smile on his face when he glanced up from the files in his hand. "Just your number."

I blinked, a little stunned and very flattered. The men who usually showed interest were often those I wasn't keen on dating, so the fact that a handsome, pleasant man had done so was a nice surprise. Unfortunately, I didn't really have time for a romantic relationship at the moment. Misdirection it was. I gave him an over exaggerated once-over. "I'm surprised a dapper man like yourself isn't already taken," I said teasingly.

He smiled. "I'm pleased you think I'm dapper," he gave a formal little bow, "But I am, in fact, single." He looked back up at my face. "What about you? Am I doomed to fail? Have I already lost to someone else?" He clutched at his heart dramatically.

I smiled at the theatrics even as I fought the urge to delve deeper into his emotions. I wouldn't have pegged him for either lighthearted  _or_  flirtatious when I first came in contact, but he seemed sincere enough in his underlying interest. "No," I admitted. "There's no one else," I said. "But I'm not really looking to date anyone right now," I continued before he could get the wrong idea.

He was undeterred. "It doesn't have to be long-term. Just one date and we'll see where it goes...?"

I pursed my lips. "Hm." I didn't have a good reason to say no. Ah well, what could one date hurt? "Hand over your phone - I'm free after 7:30 tomorrow night and 6 on Saturday."

* * *

The next day passed in a rush of activity. I had no classes, but I worked at Wayne Enterprises from 8:30 to 6 o'clock. Even with the two hour lunch break it was a long day, made longer by the fact that Fridays in general were busy days. No one wanted to come in on the weekend for something they could finish during regular hours.

By the time the end of my shift rolled around I was a bit frazzled. The handsome man from the day before (and why did I always forget to ask for people's names?!) had called at lunchtime to let me know that he'd made a reservation for us at 8 o'clock at  _La Petite_ _Étoile._ So now, not only did I have a date with a handsome man, but I had a date with a handsome man at an expensive and well-known restaurant. On the bright side, I had plenty of fancy, flattering dresses... But that didn't make up for the fact that I was probably going to die from sheer nerves alone.

TDH, because tall-dark-and-handsome was too long to say, even in my head, was most likely a few years older and leagues more experienced with this dating thing than I was. Sure, I'd been on a few casual dates and once enjoyed a (brief) friend's-with-benefits sort of deal, but that was the extent of it. If things did go further than this one date, how was I supposed to explain that I'd never even had a boyfriend? But then again, if I kept letting my inexperience with relationships hold me back, things would only get worse.

A knock on my door startled me from my thoughts and set my heart racing.  _He's here._

I pulled myself together, dismissing my previous thoughts. It was nobody's business but my own when it came to what I did and did not do and if TDH didn't like it he could fuck off. My choices were nothing to be ashamed of. With that in mind, I squared my shoulders, picked up my clutch, and opened the door.

I found TDH standing just past the threshold with his hands in his pockets, looking the very definition of dashing in his tailor made suit. "Ah Miss Elwyn, you're looking lovely this evening," he told me with a roguish grin.

The humor was obvious, even without the use of my gift. "Thank you kind sir," I told him in my most pretentious tone. "You don't look too shabby yourself."

"Well then, seeing as we both look so good, it would be a crime to deprive the masses of our presence for a single moment longer than necessary." He held out an arm. "Shall we?"

I laughed, unable to hold it any longer. "We shall." I took his arm, bracing myself for an emotional influx as I did so. Fortunately, it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. His feelings were as intense as I'd remembered, but they weren't inherently overpowering, just really, really noticeable. From them I learned that my date wasn't the least bit nervous, just confident and mildly pleased. I could also sense a distant hint of worry, but that was normal. Everyone had problems, things they worried about on a daily basis. Just because they happened to feel something else more strongly didn't mean those emotions went away. They were merely overshadowed for a time.

As we moved toward the stairs - there was no point in taking the elevator down when I was only on the second floor - I decided to get the most awkward part of our evening over with.

"So, before we go anywhere... I feel like I should mention the fact that I've yet to learn your name." I said the last bit in a rush, wishing I didn't put myself in these sort of situations.

First there was surprise, and then amusement mixed with elation. Which was kind of weird, but at least he wasn't upset. "You agreed to go on a date with me without knowing my name?"

If I were the sort of person to flush, I would have done so then. "I didn't think about it," I admitted sheepishly. "We didn't introduce ourselves, which is, okay, probably my fault - I tend to just hop straight into conversations - but whether I knew your name or not we're still strangers. It's not like your name tells me much about who you are as a person."

He barked a laugh. "I think you'll find it's quite the opposite, in my case."

I raised both eyebrows. "And why's that?" 

"Because, Miss Elwyn, I'm Bruce Wayne."

 _Oh._ That certainly changed some things. However... "My point still stands," I said decisively. "I now know a little bit of your history, but I know next to nothing about who you are as a person."

"I suppose that's true." My date was pleased with what I'd said. Not unexpected considering he'd probably had both men and women throw themselves at him since he'd gotten back. We reached the door to the garage. "After you, Miss Elwyn."

"Thank you, Mister Wayne," I said, getting a kick out of the silly formality. Still, I didn't want to be called 'Miss Elwyn' all night. "You know," I told him as he led me to his car. "You  _can_ call me Leandra, if you'd like."

"Then you can call me Bruce, now that you know my name," he teased.

I smiled. "You're just chock-full of charm, aren't you?" And he really was, all easy smiles and unwavering attention. The playful demeanor didn't hurt either. But charm wasn't necessarily a good thing. It could be, and had been so far, but it wasn't inherently so. Charm was more like a show you put on when you wanted to please someone. And there were all sorts of reasons, good and bad, to want to please someone... But I was overthinking things.

"I'm pleased you think so," he said affably. "Everyone else seems to be displeased with me at the moment. What with the six year disappearance and all." And there was a flash of hurt, brief, but very deep that cut through my date's other emotions.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said sincerely, my voice a sharp contrast to the lighthearted tone he'd adopted. Empath that I was, I hated it when others were displeased with me... and I had plenty of experience when it came to the pain of disappointing loved ones. "I'm sure they were just worried about you - You were nearly declared dead, after all."

I regretted the words immediately, seeing as Bruce's emotions now included pain and discomfort. I hastened to change the subject, "Oh my god, is that your car?" I cringed internally at how very obvious I was, but Bruce's emotions did brighten.

The car in question was a sleek silver and very obviously worth more than my apartment building. "Yeah, it's a Lamborghini-" the rest of what he said was just an incomprehensible garble of letters and numbers. I'm sure it would have meant something to my brother, but all I got out of it was that it was expensive.

"Impressive." Was all I had to offer on the subject. And it was, impressive that is - I'd never before seen a car whose doors opened vertically, at least, not in person. And the interior was literally jaw-dropping. 

Bruce started the engine. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then, buckle up." I did so just in time for him to whip out of the parking spot at a speed I was  _not_ comfortable with. 

"Oh my god," I found myself whispering in shock as he built speed. He shot out of the parking garage and immediately began to swerve through traffic. I felt my hands tighten their grip on my seat even as a giddy sort of thrill went through me. "Um," we took a sharp right turn. "I think you might be speeding, just a little."

He laughed. "What, can't handle it?"

"Oh, I can handle it," I assured him. "I'm just worried about what the police might have to say about it."

"Their opinion only matters if they catch me."

"...Said every criminal ever." By the time I said the words I'd already acclimated to the speed. Bruce wasn't actually all that reckless a driver - he paid close attention to the road and frequently checked his mirrors. I relaxed the death grip I had on my seat. "So Bruce, tell me about yourself. What have you been up to since you got back?"

 "Mostly I've been trying to set my affairs in order. On old friend of mine kept an eye on everything while I was gone, but there were still plenty of people to see and financial situations to sort out."

Conversation continued in this vein for the rest of the trip to the restaurant. We spoke casually, but vaguely, about our day to day lives and asked mostly impersonal questions. All in all, it was a very safe way to start our date.

"We're here." 

I smiled, a little relieved. The small talk was nice, but not something I was prepared to maintain. "Perfect." Bruce stopped the car and walked around to open my door before I had the chance to do it myself. Once there, he took one of my hands and gently helped me to my feet, which was surprisingly nice.  _Who knew I had a thing for manners?_

"Be careful with her," Bruce called over his shoulder as he led me inside, having tossed his car keys to the stunned looking valet. We shared an amused smile over the young man's spluttering.

"I think you just made his day," I whispered conspiratorially. Just after I spoke another valet started shouting, audible even from a distance, _'"No way - you lucky sonofabitch!'"_ "Never mind," I corrected. "You definitely made his day."

Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the host caught sight of us. "Ah, Mr. Wayne - you're right on time. Please, follow me." We did so. 

As it turns out, going on a date with a millionaire ( _billionaire?_ ) has some perks. Our table was in the elevated section, where there were fewer people, more room between the tables, and fancier cutlery. Briefly, I spared a moment to thank my lucky stars that my father had taken to inviting me along to political functions and dinner parties after I graduated high school. Otherwise, I'd have worried about eating with the wrong utensil.

The host had us seated and gestured for a waiter to approach. "Michael will be your server this evening. If either of you need anything, be sure to let him know. And please, have a lovely evening."

He backed away and the real date began.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are appreciated (but are by no means necessary if you don't feel inclined).


	2. A Date With a Prince (Part II)

“So, Bruce, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do in your free time?” I swirled the wine in my glass. It was a delicious red – though I personally preferred white.

“Oh, I don’t know,” his eyes hovered over my shoulder as he searched for an answer. “I suppose I like traveling, seeing what different places have to offer. Live musical performances, museums, street shows, and the like. What do you like to do?”

Traveling sounded nice, but I simply couldn’t afford it while I was still in school. My family was better off than we'd been in my youth, but we were by no means wealthy. “Well, in my rare moments of free time I like to run long distance. And I go to places with live music as well – though I imagine they’re rather less cultured than what you’re used to.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Bruce. “Cultured isn’t always my scene.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” I said honestly. “Being a little uncivilized is the best way to live.”

“Is that so?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Should I worry that I’ve asked out some sort of anarchist?”

I laughed. “Oh no! Laws are good, civilization is good – I just think there’s still room for fun and freedom. Honestly, if it were socially acceptable, I’d still be climbing trees like I did when I was a child.”

“You must not have grown up here then, if you had trees around.”

“You’re right. Though I wasn’t far. I grew up in the suburbs just outside the city,” I explained. “I was in and out of Gotham for field trips and family trips, but those stopped as crime got worse.”

“What made you decide to live here then?” He asked.

“School,” I admitted. “Gotham has some of the best hospitals on the east coast and I wanted easy access to internships and a strong pre-med program.”

“You want to be a doctor?”

“Oh no, not anymore.” I smiled a bit sheepishly. “I’m actually an economics major now - I graduate this spring.”

Bruce tilted his head ever so slightly and I felt a spark of genuine interest where there had only been kindness and good humor before. “What made you change your mind?”

I inhaled slowly, looking at my glass as I tried to find the right words. “Well, I’ve always found medicine and the study of different diseases interesting, but once I reached the upper-level courses my interest waned. It was actually my microeconomics teacher from freshman year who inspired me to change majors. She told me I had a real knack for the subject and pointed out quite a few real world applications that interested me. I saw how useful it could be and well...” I trailed off, suddenly feeling sheepish. Spoken aloud, it seemed like such a weak reason to choose the path that would determine the rest of my life. “What about you?” I asked. “I know you have Wayne Enterprises to deal with, but if you were free to do whatever you wanted, what sort of career would you choose?”

Though Bruce only looked mildly thoughtful at my question, he  _felt_ taken aback by it. _O_ _dd._ "Oh, I don't know," he demurred. "I've never really thought about it."

"Okay, then what about when you were a kid?" I asked. "Surely you thought something sounded appealing?" When he still looked hesitant to answer I confided, “I wanted to work at an ice cream shop when I was little. Then, when I was a little older, I wanted to be an acrobat in a circus.”

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's... unusual."

"Hah, not really. I've worked with kids and trust me when I say that my childhood life goals are actually pretty reasonable compared to some of the things I've heard."

"Like what?"

I shook my head. "Nope, not telling. Not until you tell me what you wanted to be as a kid."

He sighed a bit before relenting. "I wanted to be a detective. There was this show I used to wat-" He halted. "Well, long story short, that was my dream job." He adjusted his watch as embarrassment flared.

"Oh drat, I was hoping for something I could tease you about," I admitted with false disappointment, actually quite pleased with the honest answer. "That's better than mine." I shrugged. "Ah well, fair is fair. Would you like to hear the funniest thing I've been told by a kid?" He leaned in a bit. "A three-year-old boy told me he wanted to be a dog."

"A  _dog_?" He looked a little incredulous. 

"Oh yes," I said gleefully. "I've actually had more than one kid tell me that since then, but the first time it happened I just about died laughing. Apparently, his family had a golden retriever at home and poor little Luke was jealous. He told me all about how his dog didn't have to go to daycare or eat vegetables."

"I suppose that would seem pretty appealing to a toddler, but didn't he realize it was impossible?"

I shook my head. "Little kids, especially those under five, don't really have a firm grasp on reality or limits. Everything is so new and incredible to them that beccoming a dog doesn't seem so far-fetched in comparison."

"You sound so fond," Bruce said. I looked up to see him smiling the most sincere smile I'd seen yet. "What sort of work did you do? You must have really enjoyed it."

"I did," I admitted easily. "And I've had all sorts of jobs involving kids. I was a baby-sitter, a nanny, a math tutor, a swim instructor, and an assistant teacher in a daycare. This internship with Wayne Enterprises is actually my first time working without kids."

"Wow, that's quite the list! I know you said you originally wanted to be a doctor, so what made you decide to do all that?"

Sipping my wine to buy myself some time, I considered the question. "You know, I've never really thought about it before. I started babysitting because it's one of the few jobs you can do before turning 15, then I guess I just stuck with what I knew..." I trailed off. "I mean, it wasn't like I didn't have other jobs to choose from, but I like working with kids enough that it seemed like the best option."

"Do you miss it?"

"...Yeah." Feeling uncomfortable again, I jabbed a finger in Bruce's direction. "You are entirely too good at getting me to talk about myself."

He chuckled. "Most dates would say that's a good thing."

"Well I happen to like equity, so please, _talk_. Tell me what it's like growing up all over the world. I know you never stayed in one place for long."

"Alright," he conceded. "I guess if I had to sum it up, I'd call my experiences _educational_. My butler and I took turns choosing destinations. Alfred wanted me to be as cultured as possible, so he took me to places like London, Moscow, Bern, Rome, Beijing, and other major cities across the globe. Sometimes we just visited; othertimes I actually went to school for a semester or two."

At the mere mention of the man, fondness bubbled up so powerfully that I felt it as my own. "What about you?" I asked, just barely holding back the wide smile that wanted to form. "What sorts of places did you decide on?"

"Oh, I had more _eclectic_ tastes." He reached out for the plate of meats and cheeses at the center of the table, winking when he took a bite. He finished chewing before he continued. "I mostly chose third world countries and remote villages. We never stayed long, but the scenery was often beautiful and the experience somehow more... real, I suppose."

"Have you kept in touch with anyone over the years?" 

"Just a few people," he said. "And not very recently." He paused, "I suppose now that I'm back in Gotham that might change."

I smiled. "It's always nice to catch up with old friends."

I would have said more, but just then the waiter arrived with our food. He set two beautifully arranged plates before us with a flourish. "Please enjoy." After inclining his head politely, the man retreated back to the kitchens.

"Oh wow." I looked between Bruce's  _confit du canard_ and my own  _sole meunière._ Both dishes were steaming hot and smelled amazing. I closed my eyes and leaned forward to better enjoy the buttery smell of the perfectly pan-fried fish before me.

"You know," Bruce said. "It probably tastes even better than it smells." I snapped my eyes open and leaned back. My date was grinning unrepentedly at my faux-pas.

"Probably," I conceded, unwilling to let my embarrassment show. "But I'd like to savor this moment. After tonight, it's back to meals I have to cook myself." That said, I took my first bite. Somehow, it was even better than I imagined.

He cocked his head. "Do you dislike cooking?" 

I shook my head as I finished chewing, speaking up once I swallowed. "Not at all. I actually really enjoy cooking. Still," I gazed down at my meal wistfully. "There's something magical about a delicious meal you need only enjoy."

Bruce chuckled. "You and Alfred would get on splendidly. He's always telling me I should appreciate such things, but to me, a meal is just a meal."

"How terrible!" I gasped in what was only partly exaggerated horror. "There must be something wrong with your tastebuds!"

"Probably," he shrugged. "I've had to eat some pretty weird things over the years. At this point, so long as it's not poisonous, I'll be fine."

"So you're saying, between the meal you have now and a meal at McDonald's - you wouldn't have a preference?"

"Well, I tend to avoid overly processed food if I can help it, but taste-wise I don't have much of a preference."

I sat back in my seat. "I suppose it's true what they say: 'wealth is wasted on the rich.'"

Bruce laughed. "Don't you mean, 'youth is wasted on the young.'"

"Eh," I waved my hand. "Same principle."

He shook his head, smiling. "You know, you're one of the very few people in the past few months who's treated me like any other person. It's refreshing."

Rather than respond to his feelings like I'd mistakenly done at the beginning of our date, I chose to continue in the same lighthearted vein. I dipped my head forward in an imitation of a bow, rolling my hand with a flourish. "Glad to be of service." I winked. "Though it probably speaks more for my lack of propriety rather than any strength of character." It was mostly true. I've never liked being condescended to, so I tried to treat everyone as an equal - both to avoid being talked down to and to avoid talking down to someone else. Luckily, I'm still polite, so none of the authority figures in my life have minded.

"You'd be surprised what people think constitutes propriety," Bruce revealed. "As far as I'm concerned, you have the right idea."

"Well then," I lifted my wine glass. "Cheers to teasing millionaires!"

"I'm a billionaire, actually."

"...Just clink my glass, Bruce."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!


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